


Terminal Velocity

by orphan_account



Series: falling in color [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Artist! Kenma, Breakup Fic, M/M, Mental Health Issues, everyone has a lot of emotions, holy shit theres a lot of angst, idk how to tag, its literally just like 3k words of me ranting about emotions, post breakup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-09-06 12:19:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8750620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Kenma is tearing himself to pieces and Kuroo can't watch it anymore.





	

**Author's Note:**

> welcome to my angst train™
> 
> i decided i wasn't done w the color in the rain verse so here's another one. 
> 
> s/o to [cameron](http://archiveofourown.org/users/alpacameron/pseuds/alpacameron) for helping edit this fic and all my other fics lmao
> 
> !!!TRIGGER WARNINGS!!!: for self-harm, suicidal ideation, and emotional abuse. it doesn't get graphic at all but it's heavily mentioned, please read the tags for any additional warnings
> 
> enjoy!

**▼**

Kenma and Kuroo didn't drift apart. To some it may have looked like that from the outside, but from the inside; it wasn't slow, it was brutally fast. It happened from within quickly. Like a storm wrenching everything apart in it's path. And the storm was Kenma. 

Some might think that they both got swept up in college and careers and their own personal lives; but really it was the opposite. Kenma was caught up in Kuroo, their souls entangled; tied to each other. Kenma was so busy with another person he didn't have time for himself. 

It wasn't always like that. The first year they started dating was entrancing. They were both so in love and so happy that finally,  _ finally _ , they had what they wanted,  _ needed _ , that everything seemed euphoric. 

But then Kenma started college, and it crumbled down like a castle, no matter how initially beautiful, destined to fall. He started seeing Kuroo less, and like an addict, suffered the withdrawals. 

College was hell: he wasn't outgoing enough to make friends, and he dropped volleyball so he didn't have any default friends, classes made him feel worthless, and the people made him feel insignificant. He painted more than ever, but they were portraits of torment and horror. He shredded most of them and turned some of them into his art professor, who was mildly disturbed. He was soon afraid going to classes, being around his peers funneled pure terror into his mind. Kenma had panic attacks daily and all he did was sleep when he was at home. Soon the fear drove him to skip all his classes, then drop out. And soon enough he was afraid to go outside. 

Kuroo started leaving him for bigger and better things. His genius got noticed so he started going on class-paid vacations to present his projects and theses. They started drifting, but they would have survived it. Until Kenma fell to pieces. 

Their relationship was still as passionate as ever. They had known each other forever and had been dating for two years. Whenever Kuroo came over to Kenma’s apartment it felt like they were in highschool again, cracking jokes and laughing, love that overflowed for each other, lives worth living. But now that they were older, everything was different. There were lines on Kuroo’s face and scars on Kenma’s arms. The light had gone out in their eyes. 

Worst of all Kenma felt alone. Something he hadn’t felt since before meeting Kuroo. No matter what Kuroo was always there. Now he barely visited. Kuroo wasn’t there when his neighbors called the police on him when his screams ripped out of his lungs because he felt so terribly alone and out of place. Kuroo wasn’t there when he cut his arms and burned his hands. Kuroo wasn’t even there when he called him with a bottle of pills in his hands. Kuroo’s voicemail was the last thing he heard before he swallowed the bottle. 

He wasn’t even there when he had a 3 hour panic attack in the hospital because he was out of his apartment and all he wanted was to go back to a year ago before all this pain set in.  

The last time Kuroo was there was when he was saying he couldn’t do it anymore. 

“I can’t do this Kenma, I can’t watch you tear yourself apart,” he said, tears streaming down his face. “I love you too much to watch you ruin yourself.”

“Then why are you leaving me?” Kenma whispered, barely audible. 

“Because I’m selfish,” Kuroo let out a sob, “I’m so sorry I’m selfish,” he choked. 

“I can’t be without you,” Kenma was crying now; quiet tears filled with all the pain in the world. 

“You’ll be okay without me.”

“Don’t fucking lie to me,” Kenma said flatly, he was angry now, angry and absolutely emptied of the one good thing in his life. 

“We can stay friends…” Kuroo trailed off, tears flowing freely, as he looked at Kenma, eyes filled with hope. 

“I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOUR GODDAMN FACE AGAIN,” Kenma let the scream rip out of his throat, feeling it with every fiber of his being.

“Kenma…” Kuroo said so softly, so pained. 

_ Kuro,  _ his mind responded against his will.  

“Get out,” he replied instead. 

Kuroo hesitated for a moment, then left. 

Unbeknownst to Kenma he waited for hours until the doctor came back with the results. And when Kenma fell asleep he left him a note. 

The nurse mistook it for garbage and threw it in the trash. 

After Kenma recovered from the medication’s effects, he was institutionalized in a mental hospital, and diagnosed with autism, avoidant personality disorder, and a slew of others. He spent four months there. All he did was remember, god how he remembered.

He remembered the day at the diner kissing Kuroo. He knew perfection in that kiss, he felt completeness. When they pulled apart he felt joy from simply seeing Kuroo’s face. 

“Let’s get ice cream,” Kuroo said suddenly. 

“It’s the middle of winter, Kenma replied, grinning. 

“Ice cream knows no seasons.”

So they walked out, hand in hand, searching for an ice cream place in the middle of February. Kenma felt a giddy warmth to his very core. 

They must’ve spent an hour kissing that day, and more time laughing at their pointless conversation. 

It was one of the happiest days of Kenma’s life. 

Now that had all been wrenched away and he was sitting in a hospital staring out the window, thinking about someone who he let get away. Sure, he was surrounded by amazing people in that hospital, but he missed Kuroo with all his soul. 

One day he had a revelation. 

He was rambling on about Kuroo to his therapist as normal when she stopped him. 

“You always talk about him, you know this right?”

“I-I miss him.”

“Perhaps he was your safe person, yes? Anyways, you seem to have formed an obsession, which is unhealthy in a relationship. When did this start?”

“Uh,” Kenma considered what she was saying. When exactly did he start to feel he couldn’t live without Kuroo? “Around when I started college. It was so much stress; Kuroo was my only solace.” 

“When I asked you why you attempted suicide, you said, ‘I felt so alone’. You were dating Kuroo at this time, correct?”

“Um yeah,” he was unsure what she was trying to say.

“So you weren’t alone, were you? You  _ felt  _ alone, which is valid because all your feelings are valid, but you  _ weren’t  _ alone. And you felt alone because Kuroo was around less, yes?”

“I guess so,” he hadn’t really considered this. 

“You realize that’s ridiculous right? I mean people who love you will love you when they aren’t there. Your brain is lying to you when you think you’re alone, or worthless. You have me, you have your friends here, hell, you could even have Kuroo back if you wanted.”

Kenma loved his therapist in that moment, in fact, he loved her in many moments. 

“You think so?” he asked.

“I do,” she winked.  

He was released from the hospital a week later, and he was trying to live without Kuroo. He needed to know that he could survive by himself, he was loved, appreciated, but  _ fuck,  _ he wanted Kuroo back. 

Kenma didn’t reenroll in school, he decided it wasn’t for him. He made paintings and sold them for money, he also did commissions online. He was still incredibly depressed though. He slept most days and was still a little afraid to leave his house. He held back a sob every time he laid down to sleep, alone.

Kenma missed Kuroo. 

But he didn’t need him.

He went to see his therapist every Monday. He took his medications every day even though they made him dizzy and tired. He painted and painted and who cared if half of them were of Kuroo. Kuroo filled his thoughts and dreams and the rest of his life too. But he was  _ alive  _ and kind of wanted to be and that was better than nothing. He was lonely, though. He had avoided his notifications and friends like the plague. He had over thirty missed texts (mostly from Hinata, none from Kuroo to both his relief and disappointment) and was pretty sure someone actually emailed him. One day he got bored and picked up his phone, not entirely sure if he was going to contact anyone or if he was just going to check his abandoned Neko Atsume. He then saw the most recent text from Shouyou. 

**15:22] from hinata:** if you don’t answer me rn i will kick ur gotdamn ass (ง ͠° ͟ل͜ ͡°)ง

Kenma sighed and strengthened his resolve. 

**16:46] to hinata:** hey

**16:46] from hinata:** bOI

**16:46] to hinata:** lmao

**16:47] from hinata:** where tf were u (ノಠ益ಠ)ノ彡┻━┻

**16:47]** **to hinata:** a mental hospital lol

**16:47] from hinata:** …

**16:48] from hinata:** im coming over

**16:48] to hinata:** its a two hour drive

**16:48] from hinata:** IM COMING OVER

A little over two hours later there was knock at the door. Kenma sighed and got up. When he opened the door he was automatically tackled in a hug by one Hinata Shouyou. 

“I was gonna kick your ass but you look sad,” Hinata said. For the first time in five months, Kenma genuinely laughed. 

“Tell me what happened.”

And soon enough Kenma was telling him  _ everything.  _

“I was just tired of being myself. And I was tired of my mother’s voice calling me worthless. I was tired of people leaving. I was tired of being alive,” he finished.

Hinata waited for a moment before speaking, “Do you feel any better now?”

“Not really,” Kenma answered truthfully. Everyday he could hear his mom calling him pathetic and telling him it was his fault. Everyday he could feel Kuroo leaving him again. Every day he struggled to survive his own dysfunctional brain.

“Then let’s get takeout. I’m gonna order takeout. Also I brought Overwatch since you don’t have it yet.”

“I’m a starving artist what do you expect,” Kenma deadpanned.

Hinata laughed and pulled out his phone presumably to order food. 

They stayed up talking and playing video games almost all night. Hinata then had to leave because he had school the next morning. 

When he said goodbye Kenma realized something. He was standing. He wasn’t floating like he had been when him and Kuroo started dating. Or falling like the weeks before his suicide attempt. He was standing on his own two feet, supporting himself. Maybe he wasn’t okay right now but as long as he could stay upright, he would be eventually.

**§**   

Kuroo was hollowed out. Someone had taken a little bit of his soul and left an empty, gaping hole where Kenma had been. Kuroo stopped eating, he stopped sleeping, because his mind was entirely focused on Kenma. He shouldn’t have just left him like that. He left him in his most dire moments because Kuroo couldn’t handle watching someone he loved shred themselves to pieces. He hadn’t even considered how it might affect Kenma. _ God,  _ just how selfish was he? 

These thoughts were running through his mind on a constant loop. An unending torrent of anxiety. He opened up messages so many times to text Kenma but stopped himself when he thought  _ he probably hates me now.  _ His soul ached to be around Kenma again. He wanted to call him, wanted to see him. He wanted to rush to his apartment and bang on his door.

Kuroo still attended college but his heart wasn’t in it anymore. He still delivered presentations that his professors said was flawless, he still received perfect grades, but he felt no satisfaction from it, it no longer brought him the small happiness it used to. 

All he could think about was Kenma. 

He couldn’t stop himself from thinking about all that they had shared. 

The sky was crisp and cool and the trees had lost most of their leaves. Shiny ice glittered on the ground. Kenma and Kuroo were getting coffee, Kenma had layers and layer of clothing piled on him and Kuroo was teasing him for this. Kenma slipped on the ice and spilled coffee both on himself and Kuroo. He laughed as Kuroo yelled about his new jacket and Kuroo laughed when Kenma almost fell again, catching him by the arm. Kenma’s golden eyes flashed as he caught Kuroo’s gaze and grinned at him. 

“I love you,” Kuroo had suddenly blurted out. Kenma’s grin grew wider

“Love you too,” he smirked. 

They walked back to Kuroo’s apartment hand in hand under the azul sky. In perfect, jovial, harmony, they existed. 

Now Kenma was gone an Kuroo had left him. 

Kenma wasn’t okay and that was what hurt Kuroo most. He was constantly worried about him, how he was doing, if he was okay now. He stopped focusing on eating and sleeping and other basic necessities because all he could focus on was Kenma.

He felt so incredibly horrible for leaving him; it was tearing him apart. 

Kuroo just couldn’t watch Kenma be blind to how truly amazing he was. He couldn’t watch him hurt himself to dull the pain he couldn’t see. He couldn’t watch him be so afraid everyone was going to hate him the same way he hated himself, that he refused to leave his apartment. He couldn’t watch someone he loved slowly die.

He had been presenting a thesis when Kenma had called him that fateful night. Kuroo knew something was wrong when he listened to the silent voicemail Kenma had left him. He wished he could make the train go faster because he knew something was  _ truly, deeply  _ wrong.

When his phone rang he dreaded it because deep down, he knew what the call was. It didn’t stop him from sitting on the floor of the train and sobbing. He held his head in his hands and made a decision, either he could watch Kenma destroy himself, or he could leave him and hope for the best. 

He regretted his decision every day. 

He wished he would’ve stayed with Kenma through it all. He wished he would’ve transferred colleges to be closer to him. He wished he could’ve saved him.

Kuroo was tired of wishing. 

He wanted to go back in time and change everything. He wanted to catch Kenma before he started falling. 

After breaking up with Kenma he stopped going to class for a week. Kuroo stopped going to volleyball practice, he stopped eating, he only slept during the day, his nights restless and fitful. Everything in his head was edged with worry and anxiety. 

Bokuto finally came over to his apartment and forced him to go to class. He still knew more material than the majority of the students, but he couldn’t be bothered to care about his projects. 

Kuroo, more than anything, wanted to forget. He wanted to forget Kenma and Kenma’s pain. He wanted to get his doctorate and forget about his ex-boyfriend. He wanted to forget the pain and the happiness both. 

But he couldn’t forget. He couldn’t forget they way Kenma’s eyes lit up when he talked about video games or art. He couldn’t forget the way Kenma put out his cigarettes on his palms. Kuroo couldn’t forget waking up to rain and immediately jostling Kenma awake so they could go and walk around, surrounded by life and love. He couldn’t forget how Kenma thought that death was the best way out. Kuroo could never forget the joy Kenma brought him and the pain he brought himself. 

He was rooted to his memories, tied to them unwillingly. He wanted to live a life without Kenma. 

He also didn’t want a world without Kenma in it. 

Kuroo thought all of this as he sat in class instead of paying attention. He knew all the material already anyways. He was dreading volleyball practice after this as that meant Bokuto and Bokuto meant loudly asked questions about his emotional health. 

Volleyball flew by. Kuroo relished the pain exercise brought him. His focus was split but at least he was focusing on something other than Kenma.

“Bro,” he heard Bokuto’s voice, and tried to ignore it because he knew what was coming.

“You gotta get back together with him,” he continued. 

Well that was unexpected. 

“I can’t,” Kuroo replied. He meant to say ‘why’ but his brain was no longer connected to his mouth. “He hates me,” he finished. 

“No he doesn’t. Hinata texted me last night. Apparently he’s doing better and he really misses you,” Bokuto said. 

“Really?” Kuroo felt hope rise in his chest. 

“Really really.”

“Did you just make a fucking Shrek reference?” Kuroo laughed, feeling his heart rise for the first time in almost a year.

“Maybe,” Bokuto grinned. 

“I have to see him,” Kuroo said suddenly, he felt the truth of it in his soul.

“Go get him,” Bokuto said, beaming. 

Thirty minutes later he was on a train to see the person who had stolen his very existence.

Kuroo spent about five minutes pacing anxiously in front of Kenma’s door.  _ What if Bokuto was wrong, what if he really does hate me. Why am I here again? This was entirely impulse. Why didn’t I do this earlier?  _

Finally he managed to psych himself up to knocking. The wait for Kenma to answer the door seemed to last an infinity. He could hear the quiet footsteps approaching the door; his heart picked up.   

Kenma opened the door and Kuroo took a deep inhale. 

He looked good, the seemingly permanent bags under his eyes had disappeared, he was wearing actual clothes (covered in paint of course), and he just generally seemed  _ better.  _ Kuroo was so relieved to see Kenma okay again, he abandoned the speech he spent the entire train ride there. Instead he leaned down and waited for Kenma to close the gap. 

This kiss wasn’t like any of the other ones they had shared. It was a question without an answer. It was an end without a beginning. It was a kiss of both relief and regret. It held all the sorrows and joys Kuroo and Kenma had shared. It was both their worries and troubles being intertwined, then fading away. 

When they pulled apart, worry lined Kenma’s face. 

“What’s wrong?” Kuroo asked, pulling him into a hug. 

“Can we just stay friends for a little while?” Kenma murmured, “I just want to make sure I’m ready for a relationship.”

Kuroo would’ve been happy if they stayed friends forever, “Of course,” he whispered into Kenma’s hair. Kuroo stepped into the apartment and the smell of dirty laundry hit him. 

“Have you showered since we broke up?” he jeered.

“Yes,” Kenma snapped back. 

“Have not.”

“Have too.”

“You missed me didn’t you?” Kuroo said. 

“Maybe,” Kenma replied, smirking. 

Kuroo and Kenma didn't drift apart, and in soul and spirit, they never left each other.

**§**

_ Kenma, I know you did this because you think no one loves you, and I know you won't believe me right now. But I will always fucking love you. Terminal velocity is the speed all things reach while falling if given enough time. I was given time and I started falling. I've reached a constant speed that won't change until I hit the ground. That's what loving you is like, it is constant and unchangeable and forever until we die. We've hit terminal velocity Kenma. So no matter what, even if you don't read this note, even if the future twists and turns in wild ways no one can imagine, never forget, you have someone who loves you. You have a reason to live. You have terminal velocity.  _

_ Kuro _

**end.**

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote all of this in one night so sorry if it seems a little rushed. i don't really like kuroo's pov but whatever lmao.
> 
> the bit at the bottom is the note kuroo wrote kenma in the hospital that he never got to read
> 
> i hope you enjoyed this follow-up fic please leave a comment telling me what you think of it!!!
> 
> my tumblr is [@nekcoma](http://nekcoma.tumblr.com/)


End file.
